Greetings from Timber Cove, on the Sonoma coast where my family spent the last few days of summer. School was only a week away and so we came to relax, watch the waves of the Pacific Ocean crash against the rocks, and hike along the bluffs of Timber Cove, Gualala and Sea Ranch.  I loved being near the ocean watching the cold, harsh waves beat against the rocks and spray foam. I found it calming and beautiful.

We spent a day at Fort Ross, which was a Russian settlement in the 1800s. 

When I was in 5th grade, my class came to Fort Ross to do an overnight re-enactment field trip, with costumes and jobs and characters. The militia (which I was in) chopped wood and carried water and muskets (real ones), the cooks churned butter, the artisans made charcoal drawings and babushka dolls, the hunters fished from the rocks, and the clerks set up shop. We watched the sunset from the cliffs, we told scary stories in the chapel, and we had night watch. That’s how I fell in love with the Fort.

On this visit, we walked along the gravel path from the visitor’s center towards the old fort. My mom hadn’t been on the class trip, so I was excited to show her around and to be reunited with my memories of the place. I walked ahead of my parents, my stomach bubbling with anticipation as I approached the Fort’s border wall. My parents caught up with me as I excitedly walked in. The Fort was not exactly how I remembered. The grass was dry and brown instead of lush and green and the sour grass was gone.

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I started off with the small log building where the cooks had kept all their supplies and where my teachers had slept. We walked down the dark hallway and passed small rooms filled with miscellaneous objects, such as cooking pots and pans, buckets, and rope. We passed two more rooms with beds in them and a long table where I had seen my teachers waxing the letters that we had received from our family.

We continued towards the Kuskov house, where Ivan Aleksandrovich Kuskov, the founder of Fort Ross, had lived. We peeked into his study and saw a magnifying glass, a telescope, ink and quill, a blotting sheet. We walked upstairs to see where the cooks, clerks, and artisans had slept during our field trip. There were bedrooms that were sealed off by ropes and bars that had beds inside of them with old and musty duvets.

We were unable to enter the large building where the clerks had set up their shop and where the artisans had worked. We peeked through the bars.  Lots of animal hides (hopefully, they weren’t real) hung from the ceiling. I remembered how, when my class was here, the tables were piled up with baskets full of handmade bracelets, keychains, charcoal drawings, babushka dolls, wooden beads, packs of small “vintage” envelopes, bags of trail mix, little embroidered pouches, and bottles of salt. I remember us lining up with our items and our “rubles” in hand, waiting to purchase some goods.

And finally, we came to the militia barracks.  The room where the militia had slept was a small, round and dusty with two windows as a look-out, for invaders.

The day ended with the three of us sitting on the cliffs watching whales breach and spout from the ocean. The sky darkened and the wind and water pounded at the rocks. We settled into sleep and prepared to return home.

Until next,

Cyanjasmine11

The sky faded to yellow and sank into the horizon as navy blue pulsed across the oblivion. Little lights as small as needlepoints were sprinkled throughout the darkening sky, as the Milky Way weaved its way into view.

We reclined in our chairs and stared in awe at the stars above us. I immediately felt uncomfortable. My eyes stung from the harsh wind that blew in, my chair was leaning so far back I was convinced I would fall out at any moment, and despite having packed on all the warm, puffy layers I had taken with me… I was still cold!

My discomfort was eased as I sleepily stared at the brightest star that outshined them all. It winked at me and continued to twinkle. I glanced over to see my dad peering into the binoculars.

“Oh my god. Come look!”

I jumped out of my chair and stumbled over.

“It’s Jupiter and four of its moons!”

I took off my glasses and shoved my face into the lens of the binocular. The brightest star, which turned out to not be much of a star at all, shimmered. Two pinpricks of light flanked each side of the bright planet. The little dots were spaced evenly and though they had no twinkle, they were still as mesmerizing as the planet they surrounded.

I returned to my chair and scrunched my body as tight as possible, trying to trap the heat that circulated around me. Suddenly, a streak of light whizzed across the sky. That’s when I remembered that a meteor shower from the constellation Delta Aquariids was at its peak. My eyes widened as I searched the blanket of stars. More sped by. 5… 6… 7 … 8!

The cold became too much for us and we returned inside to warm up. My numb toes were not so numb anymore. The burned and stung as I walked down the hallway. It felt as if ice had already begun to frost over my feet. We entered the kitchen, which was lit with small red light bulbs, and dropped into chairs. The warmth seeped into my shoes and the imaginary ice slowly began to melt.

My dad came back, carrying a mug. He placed it infront of me and I stared. It appeared that the mug was empty. I looked closer and saw a layer of frothy chocolate with steam rising. My trembling hands lightly wrapped around the warm hard surface. My feet began to sting oncemore and I diverted my attention by delicately unwrapping a square of Ghirardelli and munching on the caramel that oozed out.

I began to squirm, thinking of all the meteors I could be missing by resting in here. When my dad asked if I was ready to return outside, I eagerly said I was and led the way outside.

The sky was even more dazzling than when we left it. It was as if silver glitter of all sizes had been dashed across it like another miscalaneous art project of a young child.

I wiggled back into my chair, frustrated by how often it disobeyed me! The wind was as harsh and unforgiving as ever. I was taken a back, forgetting how cold it was. To distract myself from the temperature I focused on seeing meteors and let my mind and eyes drift to the sky.

A large dot of light appeared and gracefully traveled through the stars trailing a sparkly tail, before twinkling out. I was bewitched, hoping to see one last meteor before retiring. That was the last shooting star I saw that night.

My eyes became increasingly heavy and drooped, weighing down my head. I mumbled something about going to sleep, and soon I was curled up in my sleeping bag, rubbing my recovering feet against eachother.

I awoke to the dorms filled with light. my legs and sleeping bags were twisted and I had trouble finding a way out of my bed.

My breakfast was bland scrambled eggs, bacon, and strawberries and bluberries. I sleepily pushed around the scraps, lulling in and out of sleep. Last night had been long, and despite putting in no physical effort, exhausting.

When the time came to leave, I asked to see Penny. She was called from herding big-horned sheep and bounded in. I scratched her chin and rubbed her head and she trotted into the kitchen.

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• 

The car jostled and twisted along the dirt roads, stirring up breakfast in my stomach. I moaned and stretched myself across the back seats. The ride was once again long and made me feel nauseous. My stomach was finally eased when we drove onto the paved roads and I could rest myself.

I was ecstatic when we arrived home, grabbing my stuff and dashing to the door. The night at Barcroft had been amazing and an experience I will never forget, but I was glad to be home.

Until next,

Cyanjasmine11

Greetings from Barcroft Field Station, where we prepare for a long night of stargazing.

After a filling meal of sushi (salmon, tuna, yellowtail), we once again stayed up as late as possible, in preparation for a night under the stars.

The journey continued when we left Bishop. The ride was bumpy and vomit-inducing, but we made the best of it by listening to music and looking out for patches of pink-tinted snow and small rodent-like creatures. We stopped at a national forest center to learn about the ancient trees that had been around for about 4,000 years.

We continued up the windy dirt road, anticipating our arrival at Barcroft. The station peeked over the hills as we approached . I could feel my stomach churning and burbling, hoping we arrived soon.

The truck stopped in front of a building that resembled a cylinder cut in half. I stepped out and was immediately by how cold it was. We walked inside and were greeted by an extremely friendly doggy named Penny. She whined and jumped and shoved her nose in my face. I scratched underneath her chin and followed her around.

About 30 minutes later I walked outside to find my dad setting up the tripod and our chairs. He walked off to fetch the binoculars. I jumped up onto a log that was near the edge of the plateau. I walked forward, switching between a second log that lay next to the first. As I neared the end, a burst of wind came from the mountains and almost toppled me. I hopped off the log and waited for my dad to get the binoculars.

The binoculars were set up and we began to scan the area through them. I lowered and raised the lenses, shifting them here and there. The wind lashed at us and my eyes seared with pain, tearing up.

And now I sit in the quiet dorms, ready for a night of stargazing.

Until then,

Cyanjasmine11

Greetings from Bishop, a small town in California, where we are making a stop for the night before continuing to the Barcroft Field Station (elevation 12,470 feet) in the White Mountains, where several other amateur astronomers will be gazing at the stars.

Before arriving in the humid town of Bishop, we took a long road trip through the Toiyabe National Forest, with passes above 7,000 feet to end up in the sleepy fish-obsessed town of Bridgeport. To get used to staying up very late, we had dinner at a loud diner at 9:00 pm, returned to our hotel room, and preoccupied ourselves by watching movies.

In the morning, we packed up our things to hit the road again. After marveling at the jagged mountains in the distance, we checked out of the hotel and discovered that we had journeyed to Barcroft at just the right time. The Delta Aquariid meteor shower was at it’s peak!

After an hour and a half on the highway, we arrived in Bishop. After purchasing a book, we found a Café and planned out what we would search for in the sky. And now I sit in our hotel room, as we prepare for another adventure.

Until then,

Cyanjasmine11

An empty feeling gnawed at me, as the hours left in India passed by. I sniffled as I lay in bed, hoping, wishing that I could have a few more days left to spend in India.

I groggily got ready to leave the apartment, checking for anything I might have left behind. The sky was black and eerily lit by the tall lampposts on the streets. India was asleep. Sleep; I wish I had gotten more, as I slouched on the futon in the living room, my shoulders hunched as I anxiously glanced around the room, trying to capture every essence.

The time came when we all had to reluctantly stand up, take our luggage, walk outside, take the elevator down, and approach the car that would take us to the airport. Some light conversation floated around, as we drove down the highway. My grandparents and my mother and I prepared ourselves for the moment when we would have to part, and their daughter and granddaughter would disappear through the doors of the airport.

That moment soon came. We took some pictures together and walked towards the airport doors. We hugged and kissed each other over and over again, desperate not to let go and to savour the sorrowful moment. We broke from our embrace and my mother and I entered the line where our passports and boarding passes would be checked. I looked back at my grandparents, wishing I could say goodbye one last time. I dashed from the line and under the ropes towards them. I cried as I clung on to them. I said goodbye and joined my mother, as we entered the airport.

Now I sit on the airplane that will take us to San Francisco, wondering what they are doing right now. Is my Thatha reading the newspaper or watching the news, is my Patti watching TV or cooking? Are they thinking of me, of us?

I hope I get hiccups soon, because when I do, I’ll know I’m in their thoughts.

The clear liquid was mildly sweet and warm, as I slurped it through the straw. The white flesh of the coconut was slippery and it slid easily out of my hands and down my throat. 

We were at the Chennakeshava temple, a 13th century Vishnu temple built by the Hoysala empire, about an hour outside of Mysore (now called Mysuru), the capital of the kingdom of Mysore for six centuries. The pavement burnt our bare feet, as we walked around the edge of the temple. But the dark stone in the dimly lit inactive place of worship cooled our hot and dusty feet, as we walked around, admiring the ancient architecture. The thick pillars resembled an unfinished work of pottery but were still beautiful. The statues of Vishnu and incarnations of Vishnu were closed off, but the entrance to the chambers that held them were flanked with smaller figures. 

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• 

• 

Two days ago, we had arrived in Mysore, a city known for its palaces, silk sarees, sandalwood and rosewood. We were staying at the Green Hotel which was originally a palace built for the princesses of Mysore. Ten years ago, my parents visited Mysore with me as a baby and stayed at this hotel.

Since Mysore is famous for silk sarees, we visited a saree shop. Sarees in vibrant colors – purple, pink, green, blue, red, orange, mustard – lined the shelves of the shop. Some were plain and had only one or two colors with a darker color forming a border at the bottom of the saree. Some were very ornate and embroidered with gold thread. After changing our minds many times, we bought a deep royal blue saree with beautiful gold thread embroidery as a present for my Patti for her sixtieth wedding anniversary.

• 

• 

In the morning, after some disgusting masala chai, (compared to the chai at Kabini), and a delicious breakfast of masala omelette, we went on to the dazzling Mysore palace. We had to take off our shoes and leave them at a shoe counter before entering the palace. The gilded pillars towered high above us as we walked across the cool tiles. The arched ceiling of the “durbar hall” – where the maharaja held court – was adorned with depictions of Indian gods and goddesses. It was amazing to see that, instead of western biblical depictions or Roman or Greek gods and goddesses, they were Indian. My favorite part of it all was probably the female angels. When we think of angels, we usually think of fair-skinned young males who are dressed in flowing white robes and carry harps. These angels were female, wearing sarees and holding sitars, and instead of golden curly hair, they had flowing black hair and a golden crown atop their heads.  

• 

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In the evening we visited the Chamundi temple, dedicated to the goddess who according to legend destroyed the demon king of Mysuru. It was built on one of the eight most sacred hills in Southern India, and can be reached by an ancient stone stairway of 1,008 steps. Or you can just drive up which is what we did! The roads were filled with small sales stands and the monkeys scampered about, looking for trouble. On the way into the temple, we saw a family of monkeys. There were two adults and a baby clung to each one. It was hot inside and the temple smelled of incense. People lightly touched the statues and carvings on the stone, in tribute, I think.

• 

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After coming out of the temple, we walked into a small courtyard. A male monkey sat proudly in the middle, staring down people who passed by. A woman held out a banana. The monkey snatched it without hesitation, gobbled it up, and ran off.

As we drove down the hill, the bushes thinned out to reveal a stunning view, overlooking the city of Mysore, surrounded by lush, green hills circled by mist. More monkeys were up to their monkey business. A ferocious male monkey attempted to leap into the open window of a passing van and a little one sat on the stone. It scratched its bottom, sniffed it, and walked away.

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The next day, the bitter taste of the morning tea lingered in my mouth as we drove past the monkeys and old buildings and gulmohar trees towards Bangalore.

The vegetation that towered above us was filled with droning and whining crickets, as the Jeep we sat in bounced and jostled along the muddy, dirt road. There was a rustle, as a shape stepped forward from the brush. People gasped and whipped out cameras and phones. My heart pumped as I wildly looked around, confused. Then, I saw it.

Greetings from Nagarhole National Park and Tiger Reserve. Known for it’s tigers and large concentration of Asiatic elephants, Nagarhole is one of the 50 tiger reserves established in India. 70% of the world’s tigers live in India. Project Tiger is a tiger conservation program established in the 70’s to protect the endangered Bengal tigers that are all over India. Nagarhole is seperated from Bandipur National Park and Tiger Reserve by the Kabini reservoir. Both national parks used to be hunting grounds for the royal family of Mysore, before they were established as sanctuaries. My mother, my grandparents, and I stayed at the Kabini River Lodge on the banks of the Kabini reservoir, and experienced the wonders of the jungle surrounding us. We saw stunning, once-in-a-lifetime sights that we will remember long after this trip ends. Here are my top 7 most amazing experiences, in the form of a poem.

7. Eagle In A Tree
The proud eagle looked over their kingdom,
Perched regally upon a high branch.
A coughing sputter rumbled from a distance,
As a noisy Jeep bumbled along the rocky path.

The eagle knew what was coming;
The pictures and exclamations,
The pointing and binoculars.
Still,
The eagle stayed,
And let them.

6. Crocodile Resting On River Banks

The solitary creature rested on the bank,
Snarling at whatever came close.

A motorboat rumbled loudly,
Coming closer,
Closer.

The crocodile wished it could be left alone in peace,
Away from confusion and judgement.

Judgement.
That is what the crocodile hated.

5. Python
We were clueless,
Then,
Of the wonders we might see,
But now,
The thick snake slithered through the grass,
It’s oily body inching towards the tree.

Not so clueless now.

4. Elephants
The little elephant peeked out of it’s shelter of female elephants.
The two-week old baby did not know the dangers of the jungle.

It’s dark eyes gazed at the loud,
Green Jeep that bumped across the mud.
People stared at it,
Scrutinised it.

The calf turned away,
And crept back into the shadows of it’s mother.

3. Dancing Peacock
The peacock did not know embarrassment,
As he shook his fanned out tail feathers
And wagged his puffed behind.
He strutted,
And hopped,
And spun,
Hoping a peahen looked on.

All he saw was a green Jeep.
Pleased to see an audience,
He squawked to let them know he approved of their looking on.

He shook more vigorously and slowed his spinning,
Displaying his large fan of tail feathers.

The Jeep drove off,
But the peacock danced on,
Thrilled to know that he might have a chance.

2. Tigers
Three safaris we had taken,
one by river and two by Jeep,
and still we had seen no tigers.

We had hope on the last safari,
As we bounced through the jungle.
We kept watch on both sides,
Nervously glancing at the trees and searching the grass and bushes with our eyes.

They slinked towards us,
Their heads bowed down low.
The edge of the Jeep was crowded with cell phones and cameras that clicked and flashed.

The big cats prowled in the shadows and across the road.
Mother and cubs,
Searching the jungle.

The mother came close to the Jeep,
Holding the gaze of the anxious humans that leaned towards her.
She continued into the green,
On the hunt.

The moments that followed were filled with a burst of feverish excitement,
As we followed the majestic tigress.
But she was gone.

1.Spotted Deer Escapes Wild Dogs
The deer ran wildly,
His heart thumping madly in his head,
As the blood-thirsty wild dogs chased him,
Hungry for the flesh of a healthy deer.

The dogs snapped and snarled as the deer raced for his life,
Tears of desperation flying from his dark eyes.

The deer leapt and flew over the grass,
Charging for the glistening Kabini river.
He jumped from the banks and splashed into the water,
Swimming and kicking furiously,
Never looking back as he pushed for the other side.

As the deer reached the other side,
The dogs gazed ahead,
Defeated.
They turned and whined,
As the deer crawled out of the river,
And ran into the distance.

Many of these animals are endangered and it is important to take into consideration how our actions and choices can impact them. Kabini was an amazing experience and is one that I won’t soon forget.

Until next time,
Cyanjasmine11

The hot, muggy air and hazy clouds that hid the moon swirled around my head and in my lungs, as I stepped out of the airport, and into Bangalore, India.

Greetings from Bangalore (we’re actually in Mysore, but we need to get caught up), where the sunrise is worth waking up early for. My mother and I make an annual trip to India to visit my Thatha (grandfather) and Patti (grandmother) and also embark on an exotic adventure.

The journey from California was long and seemed never-ending, with the 14 hour flight to Dubai, the two hour lay over, and the final 4 hour flight bringing us to Bangalore. Most of the 14 hour flight was spent watching movies and sleeping. I strongly recommend Captain Marvel. It was amazing to see such a powerful female superhero take the lead, and the humour and plot was very entertaining.

There was an elderly lady sitting next to us who spoke only Arabic. I was able to decipher when she thought she had forgotten her glasses in the lavatory and asked my mother to retrieve them, and when she realized that she had them all along. She was kind, even though we couldn’t understand each other well. Later on the flight, she draped her blanket over me while I was sleeping.

The plane landed, we passed through security, and shortly after, we boarded our flight to Bangalore and 4 hours later we landed in India.

As we walked towards the doors that led outside, the sensations built inside me; excitement, anxiety, anticipation. I love my grandparents and don’t get to see them very often and our time together is so short.

The apartment complex my grandparents live in was very close to the airport. I sat on the balcony of their apartment, watching the airplanes that rose into the sky.

Until next time,

Cyanjasmine11

I watched as my grandma spooned Campbell cream of broccoli soup onto fusilli pasta. Then on went the steamed broccoli and carrots. She sprinkled some dry, crunchy noodles around and moved onto the quiche. What could we be preparing for? A family reunion, that’s what. My uncle and aunts would be there. So would my older cousins, Ruby and Iris, and my little cousin, Ada. And we shouldn’t forget my parents or my grandparents. 

We were caught by surprise when they arrived early. After setting up chairs to restrict Ada, we situated ourselves in the living room. For the first time, I was socializing with the little cousin. She could talk a little and we fiddled with Easter eggs, little wooden boats, and plastic balls she had brought with her. We opened and closed the eggs and put them into baskets. She babbled and spoke to me a few simple words.

It was soon time for lunch. I gave myself a healthy helping of the casserole, quiche, pasta, and salad that filled my plate. I headed outside onto the deck to sit with my grandparents and older cousins. The conversation that followed consisted mainly of questions of Ruby’s going to college. When Grandpa Sam asked her if she was on the crew team, we all smirked when she said she wasn’t, we were all thinking of the college entry scandal in the news. We were all thinking of the college entry scandal.

After finishing our meal, we returned inside to continue to play with a certain two-year old. Pictures were taken, or were tried to be taken, since Ada was constantly on the move. Then I had to rescue her balls, which she had dropped behind the couch. They soon left, and I snuck to the TV room. 

A few days later it was, all too soon, time to leave. I kept trying to convince myself that it might be easier this time. I’ve always gotten this feeling I that I’m leaving something behind that will be forgotten about. I know that I won’t be having the sense of joy when I first see them at a beginning of a trip for a long time. It’s like I’m split between three worlds; the one in Washington, the one in India, and the one in California. I always feel separated from the ones I don’t live in because the rest of my family lives in those places, and I feel alone. 

But of course, I can’t forget all the special things back home. Here we are ending in a high note! That high note turned out to be going on a walk on Nimitz Trail for my dog’s birthday!

I’m sorry this was such a short blog.

Until next time,

Cyanjasmine11 

Greetings from California! I hope you have all had an enjoyable President’s Day Weekend. Ours was, as you can tell from the title, tumultuous. 

Our plan was to drive to Tahoe Vista. You can just imagine how that turned out. The ride was extremely cramped, so I had kicked my legs up onto the seat. We stopped in Auburn to get gas, and continued.

After about half an hour later, the traffic began to come in. The lanes and roads were packed with cars. We looked at Google Maps and discovered that all of the cars were backed up. CalTransit had closed some lanes.

We stopped at a small grocery store. My mom and I waited in the car while my dad got some things. There was a lot of sighing and looking out the windows. I was not optimistic that this would succeed.

A few minutes later, my dad came back. We could tell that he was feeling good about something. It was the way that he was walking. He told us that he had found a way to get us there.

• 

• 

We began to drive, and hope filled the car. Until we were caught in another clogged area. CalTransit had closed a few lanes due to some spin-outs and avalanche control. The cars crept along, inching forward every so often. It was awful. Several hours later I was told to go to sleep. I tried. My back hurt, my legs were stiff and cramped, I couldn’t fall asleep. I tried to close my eyes. I did, but with the car lurching forward, sudden sounds, other cars coming from the opposite direction, I couldn’t.

At about 12:30, we decided it was too much. It was impossible. We didn’t know when we would reach Tahoe. It might be at 5:00! I began to cry. The trip that I had hoped for, the holiday that I had anticipated for weeks, was gone. Ruined. Smashed. Shattered. I cried and cried all the way back. I knew my parents felt bad. It wasn’t this week, but someday I will see once again the snow that I longed for.

I’m sorry this was such a short blog.

Until next time, 

Cyanjasmine11